


Rock and Roll Thugs

by oh_ms_omegalomaniac



Category: Icon For Hire - Fandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Death, F/M, Just a drabble, Sadness, and inspired me, based on an Icon For Hire song, called 'rock and roll thugs', crazy is i believe the medical term, its a really good song, just a little, that evil chick from BL/ind - Freeform, the killjoys arent really in this much, to put this background story to it, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2463548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_ms_omegalomaniac/pseuds/oh_ms_omegalomaniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a drabble based off an Icon For Hire Song. BL/ind has banned music, forced their pills on Battery City. So what happens when one woman resists?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock and Roll Thugs

“Rock and Roll Thugs”

The music is in my blood, you don't understand  
The music is in my blood, you don't understand

Sleepless nights at the black and white keys  
I'll let my fingers say it for me  
Sometimes my spirit's still so scared  
Once I put it in a melody it means so much more to me  
Fate sealed, I guess this is how I feel  
Sometimes I swear the lyrics write me  
The lyrics write me

The melody a remedy to calm me down  
You never did approve of the fix I found

Bury all the records in the backyard,  
When you're not looking I'll go dig them back up  
You can bury my body in the backyard,  
When you're not looking I'll go dig myself up  
And I know all about the drugs they hide inside the music, I know, I know  
I know all about the drugs they hide inside the music

 

His eyelids are so heavy. 

So, so very heavy. He didn't sleep last night- she was giving him the silent treatment, her anger enough to keep his mind racing. 

The bed was so, so very empty without her next to him and he thinks maybe maybe he could close his eyes just for a second. But a voice of warning is screaming in his head and he forces himself to keep working. 

"Employee number 18241?" 

He's suddenly very much awake as a woman peers down at him, a smile playing on her lips. She extends a hand and it's a few moments before he can summon the courage to shake it. 

"Ma'am."

"Oh, none of that formality please. May I have your name?" He recognises her in an instant- one of the founders of BL/ind. His boss. 

"Adam." 

She smiles. 

"It's nice to meet you Adam. How are you this fine day?" 

"Good, ma'am." 

His mouth has gone into autopilot while his brain is searching for an explanation- founders never speak with employees. 

"That's wonderful. Excuse me, I have to go, Adam," she draws out his name, emphasising it, "have a better day." 

 

His thoughts whirr away for the rest of the day and when he arrives home, even his usually-oblivious wife turns down her music and looks at him with concern. 

"Are you okay, Adam?" 

"I'd be better if you weren't endangering everything we know by playing your music." 

The sarcastic retort comes out before he can stop it and Arielle's eyes narrow in anger. 

"No." 

Again he's blanked tonight. It's starting scare him, her obsession with the music. She's never been a perfect citizen, Arielle, but she tried. 

Until now. Now she just hoards the illegal songs and throws the pills down the drain of her life. His eyes are almost closed but he can't shut his stupid, stupid mind down. Can't stop the stupid worries and the stupid thoughts and the stupid fear. 

 

And the preacher at church must've told you about them too  
'Cause you came home dead set on what you had to do  
You said the demons and drugs hide in rock n roll thugs  
If I wanna grow up nice, I better give the music up

"You look tired, Adam. What's going on?" 

She speaks to him again. He tries so hard to hide his surprise but his eyebrows must have fractionally moved or his eyes must widened slightly because she's giving him the grin of a shark that has found it's prey. 

"Don't look so suprised, Adam. Here at Better Living Industries, we care about our employees. What's troubling you?" 

His eyes dart from side to side. Slowly, his pale hands curl into fists and he struggles to breathe. He can feel his heart racing faster and faster and faster and before he can spit out a lie a tear is slipping down his face and he's blurting out everything. 

"It's my wife she's stopped listening to the White Noise she found illegal music and she won't listen to a thing I say I swear I swear I've tried everything.." 

He has begun to shake now and can't stop, can't stop the tremors from erupting. 

"I buried the records in the backyard but she dug them back up while I was here at work. I burned every one of them I could find but still she comes home with more. We've argued and screamed and yelled at each other but she says the music is in her blood. In her blood." 

Pleading, his eyes turn the head of BL/ind. He was going to lose his job and they would come to his house and take her and-

"I'm sorry to hear that, Adam. I truly am. Has your wife ever had troubles in the past? Any other... rebellions?"   
His brain is screaming at him stop talking! stop talking! but he carries on despite it.

"Before the Wars she was a drug addict. She's clean now but she's always missed curfews not taken the pills and I'm just so.." 

Her hand has found its way onto his back and she is making small circular motions with her palm. It somehow calms him despite the fact she's his employer and boss and could end his life as he knows it in the blink of an eye. 

"That's terrible. It's so bad that you have to feel this way." 

She trains her eyes on his now, her deep, dark eyes overflowing with sympathy and concern. All he can do is nod. 

"You know what you have to do, right?" 

He's confused so he shakes his head and mutters an apology under his breath though he's not sure it matters anymore. 

"You'll have to retire her. I'm sorry, but she's a threat to our society." 

These words jolt him out of the haze of confusion and his mind is battling itself in deciding how to answer. He loves Arielle. That's why he married her, that crazy barefoot woman with her purple hair and homemade clothes. She is everything he's not and he loves that, loves her to death. 

But BL/ind is always right. BL/ind is always correct. BL/ind only has it's citizens in mind and it cares about each and every one of them. She's right; his wife is a threat. 

"How?"

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them and he knows then he has to do it. 

Has to and will. 

"When you leave today, I will instruct one of the Draculoids to assign you a firearm." 

He nods slowly, calmly, his mind slowly preparing itself against what is about to come. 

"Okay." 

"Bury her body in the backyard, next to the records." 

"Okay."

 

"Arielle? I'm home, sweetie." 

He has to yell over the music that is pulsing from the back room of their tiny house. She doesn't bother to turn it down before strolling out. 

"Oh, hi." 

Swallowing every emotion, he sits down calmly at the kitchen table and takes the gun out, resting the cold metal on his lap. His wife doesn't even notice it as she sits down across from him. 

"Arielle, this needs to stop. Please. This is the last time I'm going to say it. You need to take your pills and stop listening." 

Her face crinkles up in disgust and she pushes the chair back, standing abruptly. 

"No. You never did approve of the fix I found, did you?! The music is my drug. I can't live without it, Adam. I can't." 

He sighs. He knew she'd say that.

"Then I'm sorry." 

He raises the gun and points it at her heart as he stands, ignoring her gasp. 

"You don't understand." 

"I understand perfectly, Arielle. You're a danger to society." 

She shakes her head violently, eyes wide fear. 

"No, please, Adam-" 

He imagines a gunshot, echoing round the room, but the firearm is a ray gun and all that is heard is a tiny, suprised gasp from his wife. Her mouth becomes a 'o' of shock as she falls, almost in slow motion, it seems. 

"The music.. is in my blood..." 

Her hand reaches out, eyes trained desperately on his. 

"You... don't.. under.." 

He stares into her eyes, those beautiful eyes he fell in love with, until the light behind them is gone. 

Gone. 

 

He buries her body in the backyard. His hands shake so hard he drops the shovel; once, twice, three times. His mind is a whirlwind of anguish and guilt and regret as he crouches down, staring down at the body in the hole. 

What has he done? 

The first shovelful of dirt sprinkles falls onto her pale face. 

"I'm sorry, Arielle. I'm so sorry." 

Every inch of his body is terrified now, borderline-hysterical with fear at what he's done. Fear, and the awful, crushing load of guilt and regret. She's gone. 

 

"Hello, Adam. I assume you did it?" 

Adam nods soundlessly as she strolls over to him, hating the smug smirk on her face. His hands become white-knuckled fists under his desk.

"It was the right thing. I'm proud of you." 

He forces a smile. 

"Okay." 

Satisfied, she pads away, feline beauty. Not as beautiful as Arielle, a little voice in his head whispers. 

And pure evil. 

 

His eyelids are heavy. So, so very heavy but he doesn't even think of sleeping. How can he when his wife lies in a grave not ten metres away? 

"I'm sorry. You were right. I didn't understand." 

"I know." 

He spins around and his heart almost leaps out of his chest when he sees his wife standing there. 

"You never listened, did you?" 

Dirt is strewn through her hair and it's that detail that draws his eyes.

"I'm so, so sorry. Arielle..." 

He reaches out to touch her and she draws away, rage on her face.

"You're not listening! You don't understand!" 

Anger and hatred has lit a fire in her eyes and Adam backs away. 

"What can I do to make this right? I'm so sorry, so sorry, so sorry..." 

The fire still burns as she stalks towards him- he can feel the heat of it on his cheeks. 

"Avenge me. Run from BL/ind. Find the rebels, the killjoys, and avenge me." 

She walks away now, malicious hatred in her voice. 

"I'll be here until you do." 

 

He's been walking for days now, the soft desert sand in his eyes and the hot desert sun on his back. Everything hurts. She's been with him, the entire time, screaming and singing and whispering and whistling. Driving him insane. Or maybe the lack of water is doing that? His eyes fall to the firearm in his hand and for a moment he just wants it to end. 

"I hide behind these songs too well.." 

The gun seems to blur and Adam drops to his knees, realising he won't even have to shoot himself.

It's over. 

His thoughts are finally, finally, finally slowing until a voice drags him away from the blackness of unconscious. 

"He looks pretty bad. You okay down there?" 

"Jet Star, does he look okay? C'mon, grab his arms." 

"Should we take him back to Doctor D, Poison?" 

"Yeah, Kobra." 

He gives up now. Darkness enfolds him and he welcomes it. 

"Wake up, wake up! Bro, c'mon, wake up, we know you're alive!"

"Poison, shut up." 

"Oh, get ghosted, Fun Ghoul." 

"Whatever." 

His throat is so dry and the words hardly make it out of his cracked lips. 

"Where am I?" 

Cheering erupts and Adam forces his eyes open, so confused. Standing over him are four men, each dressed in bright colours. One with bright red hair grins at him and offers a bottle of water.

"You want?" 

He accepts it with relief and downs the lot, curiosity overshadowed by thirst. 

"You're at our home for now. Who are you?" 

A shorter man with dark hair is looking at him cynically. 

"Adam." 

"Just Adam?" 

Adam shrugs and the man rolls his eyes. 

"Oh, whatever. Hey, rest now. You're pretty sick." 

He agrees with that at least. 

 

Days pass, then weeks, the months. He's better now and runs with the men, these killjoys as they call themselves. 

He likes this life, this life of running and fighting and friendship and free thoughts. 

Arielle visits him every morning, every night, but her anger has been replaced with reluctant forgiveness and a touch of pride. He's speaking to her, one day, telling her about something Jet Star said when Party Poison hears him. The red-haired man is curious. There's no one but him and Adam in the house- Jet Star, Fun Ghoul and Kobra Kid are out on a raid. 

He sneaks upstairs and peers through the crack in the door, silent. 

"You should visit while we're on a raid sometime. I'm getting really good at shooting now- I don't even know how I managed to hit you back then." 

Poison's eyes scan the room and his heart sinks. Empty. Adam is talking to himself- or something only he can see, Poison thinks. 

"I'm sorry, Arielle. But I'm listening now. And I think I’m starting to understand.”


End file.
